


Snapshots of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

by SunnyD_lite



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drabble Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-01
Updated: 2006-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyD_lite/pseuds/SunnyD_lite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here are a series of drabbles. The first is set prior to Mr. Wyndam-Pryce appearance in the series, and then subsequent drabbles are set at the end of each season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

**Author's Note:**

> **Feedback:** is my main addiction  
> **Disclaimer:** Joss created, just playing!!

**A Watcher's Dilemma** G

He'd never been to California before. Had never even considered it as a potential location. The Watchers' Academy did spend time discussing the location of know Hellmouths. And then there was the alternate history, such as the Grezlog demon who started the San Francisco earthquake of 1906.

But California itself? Wesley knew it was the setting for movies and television shows, but his tastes leaned towards the classic film noire of the thirties and forties.

After his initial exhilaration at being chosen the Watcher for the current Slayers, he was faced with quite the dilemma.

What was he to pack?

**Punishment** G

In boarding school, one of the older students raised homing pigeons. His prefect decided that cleaning out the pigeon's loft was to be clumsy Wes's punishment.

As punishments went, an escape to the roof away from the bullies ranked more as a reward. And Saunderson appreciated his assistance. Wesley became familiar with all the birds and helped with their care and training. He waited breathlessly when the youngest went on its first toss and returned safely to the loft.

Reading his termination letter from the Council, Wesley marveled again how a bird could always find home, but he never could.

**Repetition** G

They'd spent a week digging through the charred remains of their office. Filing cabinets had protected the rare books, or the ones which hadn't migrated to his flat. Angel had raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything when he realized where three quarters of his collection had gone.

They lugged all they could to Cordelia's place. A dropped battle ax guaranteed that the coffee maker wasn't amongst the survivors of the explosion. He was quite sure that even Cordelia could not destroy a cup of tea.

He dearly hoped that explosions and hospital visits weren't a Californian Rite of Spring.

**Exposition Man** PG

"Hey man, why is Angel all bent out of shape? Who WAS this Buffy chick?"

He and Gunn had opted to do a food run to avoid the stifling emotions which Willow's appearance had unleashed. From the jubilation at their success in Pylea to the news of Buffy's death, saving the world while they'd been in another dimension.

Wesley pushed open the Taco Palace's door. "She was the Slayer. She and Angel...they were very close."

"Is that an English way of saying they bumping uglies?"

"More of a Harlequin melodrama, what with his curse."

"Curse, right. So, what's a Slayer?"

**Forgivable** R

One time might have been forgivable.

Rather a cliche of course, sleeping with the enemy. Considering what Lilah had orchestrated for his benefit, it was satisfying to turn the tables and regain some illusion of control.

The fact that she was the only person who knew about the more unusual aspects of his life and was still speaking to him was irrelevant.

It wasn't her unwavering attention, focusing that sharp intellect on him.

And her sleek looks, the illicit icy exterior which melted so easily with the right touch...

Once might have been forgivable. But he wasn't looking for forgiveness.

**Recorded History** G

Many would have considered it overkill, but Wesley had been taught from the nursery to be cautious. He'd also been trained to keep a diary.

He stored his notes in a box secured with protection spells.

After his first day at Wolfram and Hart, he pulled out the diary to record his thoughts.

He turned to the earlier pages to maintain the narrative flow. His short term memory felt a little, imprecise.

He'd written about a goddess called Jasmine, about a sense of belonging and being loved.

He didn't realize he was crying until a water spot smudged the page.

**Testament** G

This is the last will and testament of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.

I leave my collection of mystic texts and scrolls to my friend Angel, if he survives me. If not, I instruct that they be left to Rupert Giles.

I leave my collection of oriental figurines to my friend Charles Gunn.

I leave my dart set and beer steins to William T.B.

I leave the collection of Frances Hodgson Burnett novels to Winifred Burkle.

The residue of my worldly goods are to be donated to the East Hills Teen Centre.

May they have more enjoyment of them than I ever did.


End file.
